


But I'm No Good At Math

by thePetetoherPatrick



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, It's basically just porn, Kinky Shit, M/M, Oneshot, Pete needs money, Porn With Plot, Requested fic, Smut, WTF, he asks his neighbor, i wrote sin, idfk how to tag this, idk anymore, if I'm missing any tags I should have tell me and I'll add them, patrick basically pays pete for sex, really long, this is sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thePetetoherPatrick/pseuds/thePetetoherPatrick
Summary: This is based on a prompt and request from the GC I’m in. It was aimed at either me or Wifey but I was bored and wanted to procrastinate working on Perfect Boys so I decided to take it.B is always asking A for money, so once A finally gets tired of it, B offers to pay some other way. Luckily A has a possibly embarrassing idea for B. This but with smut please?





	

I sit there in my shitty little studio apartment staring at the wall. I am so utterly screwed. I can’t believe I got fucked over at work again this month. There is no way my pay cheques should be that small, I’ve been working my ass off and covering extra shifts at both the bar and the cafe. I rest my head in my hands. I sold the last of my collectibles and sports memorabilia from when I was a kid. I used the last of the money I had stashed for dinner for the last week. I look at my bass sitting in the corner. Well...it might sell but not for enough to pay rent this month. It’s too old and beaten up. I really don’t want to sell it but I’m not any good at playing anyway and I need to eat. I look around. I’ve got nothing else of value that I can sell really. I don’t have a TV, or many electronics. I need my cell phone. 

I run my hands through my short black hair. I really don’t want to ask my neighbor to borrow money again. I still never paid him any of the other money back. I hate doing this, he’s got his own problems I’m sure. I look at the floor. My parents told me when I moved out not to come back and not to ask for money. I don’t exactly have a lot of friends. He’s kind of my only option right now. I groan at the thought of having to walk across the hall to his door and ask him to borrow money yet again. I look at my sad little apartment again. Goddammit, why do I even fight to keep this place. I don’t really wanna end up on the streets but at this point that the option I’m gonna end up with. I’m like $1100 in debt to a guy I don’t know, and I live in what is essentially an overpriced box with very little in it. I’m hardly ever even here because I have to work so much to even have a prayer of affording this place. 

My shoulders slump and I swallow what little pride I’ve got left and push myself off my ratty little couch. I march across the hall and hesitate at his door. All I really know about the guy is that his name is Patrick and he works for the local radio company. I sigh and knock. I don’t hear anything so I knock again. The door swings open and the shorter, rather cute but grumpy looking, blonde man answers. Shit, he knows. 

“What do you want Peter?” he says in the most aggressively unimpressed voice I’ve ever fucking heard. I am so royally screwed. He’s not gonna help me. 

“I...uh...look Patrick, I really hate to ask you but I...uh…” I take a deep breath. “I can’t make my rent again and I really need some help man, I’d never ask if I had any other options.” 

“Dude, I’ve helped you out with this twice already and you still haven’t paid me back for that. You seriously need to get your shit together and figure this out yourself. I’m not an ATM and I don’t do charity cases.” he frowns at me and tries to slam the door on me. I throw out a hand to stop it from closing. 

“Look, I’m not gonna make excuses, I know I haven’t paid you back and trust me if I could then I would. I...haven’t actually paid rent in three months, if I don’t pay this month she’ll throw me out.” I grimace. “I haven’t paid rent since you helped me out last time because I didn’t want to ask for help. I know you probably hate me by this point but I will do anything to make this up to you, I am so sorry to ask this of you again, I know you’ve got your own shit to take care of.” 

He pauses. “Three months? You’re that far behind?” he shakes his head. “So not only are you in debt to me but you’re just royally screwed in general. How are you gonna pay the other three months?” 

“I’m gonna have to get a third job obviously. I’ve sold anything of value I had to feed myself and try to pay the bills and now I’ve got no other options.” I look at the floor, I feel like such an idiot right now. 

“What the hell is costing you so much money that you have two jobs and still can’t keep up on the bills?” he looks astonished. I freeze, I really don’t want to talk about this. “You an alcoholic or druggie or something?” 

“No!” my eyes go wide. “No, nothing like that...it’s...medical bills and prescription costs that kind of...suck the life out of you...I try but…I can never seem to get ahead.” I sigh, now that he thinks I’m some kind of freak. “Like I said, I’ll do anything to pay you back ok, I just really need the help right now.” He just stands there looking at me for a second. He seems to be considering something and I kind of worry about what he’s got in mind. 

“I...have an idea...but I don’t know how you’d feel about it.” he says, eyebrows furrowing together. He runs a hand through the fluffy bleach blonde mess he calls hair. “You need the money though…and you still owe me from before. Ok look, I’ll help you out, including what you’re behind on for your rent and I’ll forget the debt entirely if you do something for me.” 

“Woah, Patrick that’s a lot of money, I can’t ask that of you. That’s crazy, I doubt there is anything I could do that’s worth that much.” I back up a bit, this has bad idea written all over it. 

“I’ve got a fair amount saved up, I don’t go out much. I can more than cover it and if you’re struggling that bad then I’ll help.” he says. “But only if you do something for me, and trust me what I’m asking for isn’t small.” he sighs and motions for me to come in. I cautiously step past him into the one room apartment. It’s exactly like mine but furnished, decorated, and clean. There are several instruments piled in the corner. So this is where the 3am music comes from. I roll my eyes, he’s the one that keeps me up. 

“So, what do you want then?” I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

“Look, I’ll give you the money first of course, I’m ok with that, you live across the hall from me it’s not like you can skip out on me if you agree to this. I won’t ask it of you today because I’ve got things to do.” he says, avoiding answering directly. He’s gotta be kidding, paid upfront before I give him anything? It makes me really nervous about what he wants from me. 

“Patrick, if it’s anything illegal…” I start but he cuts me off. 

“No don’t worry, just not something I’ve been able to find anyone else for.” he shifts uncomfortably. “How can I say this...I kind of...I’ve been…” he stutters, somehow suddenly more nervous than I am. This increase my anxiety about the whole situation. “I think you’re hot, and it’s really hard to find guys that are into the stuff I am so...I guess I’m trying to ask…” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there because I feel like I can kind of guess where you’re going with that and I’m gonna tell you right now I’m not gay, and if you’re into some kinky shit I think I’d rather live in a cardboard box.” I throw my hands up. 

“First of all that’s crap, I saw you checking out the construction worker out front this morning, you were definitely eyeing his ass.” he says and I curse under my breath, I have never been able to admit to myself that I check guys out sometimes and I mentally kick myself every time I catch myself doing it. “And second, it’s not...that kinky...it’s just...kind of…” he frowns. “It’s just a sub-dom thing. It’s not that bad, but a lot of people think it’s crazy.” 

My eyes go wide again, I don’t much about submissive-dominant stuff but that it can get violent. I feel uneasy. “What exactly does that mean?” 

“I...ok I’m a power-bottom. I’m the dom and I’m in control but I like being fucked not fucking my sub.” he says, his pale ivory skin instantly flushing red. So he wants me to fuck him, but he wants to be in control of it. That doesn’t sound so bad, I can at least pretend he’s a chick in my head. I internally curse, why am I even considering this? Because he’s offered to help you out in a way that would save your ass and you're desperate you idiot, or you wouldn’t even be here, I think to myself. 

“Ok, so...not today...then when?” I say, and I know I’m going to regret this. 

“I’m free tomorrow night, I’ve got that night off from work.” he says, seeming shocked I’m even considering this. “Just knock on my door around six. You sure about this?” he asks. 

“It’s not like I’ve got a lot of other options, and I’m trying to remain of the mind that it won’t be as bad as I’m imagining it. It’ll likely be the least horrifying thing I do in my life.” I sigh heavily. I’m basically signing myself up to be a prostitute for a night. Then it hits me, is this just a one time thing? Does he just want one night? I voice this concern. “And it’s once, I can hopefully easily move on and forget about it afterwards.”

“Well…” he trails off. Shit. “I had a more...weekly...kind of thing in mind...like I said it’s not easy to find guys willing to do this.” My shoulders slump. 

“For how long?” I ask, hoping this is not long term. 

“A few months I think, I don’t really now...I guess we could say for as many months as you are behind in your rent...if you want to stay beyond that I won’t complain but that will be by your choice and no longer paid for.” he says. “So three months, once a week you show up at my door.” 

I heave a breath and exhale really loudly, flaring my nostrils. I am so royally and completely fucked. “Fine.” I grumble.  
“Ok, so how do I write out this cheque?” he asks and I can’t help the shock that crosses my face. “I said I’d pay you before you give anything up.” I relax a bit, at least he’s He nods and starts writing.

“So you are three months behind, plus this month.” he says aloud but to himself and writes on the cheque. “Here.” he hands it to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six and you had best show up or I’ll have to come get you and I won’t be happy.” he says strictly. Ok...so he really is a dom. I nod and turn around and retreat as fast as I possibly can. I am so not gonna get any sleep tonight. And I am absolutely doing a Google search at the library on this before tomorrow. For now though I need to cash this and bring the money back to the superintendent. 

~~~~~

I stand in front of my mirror at five o’clock. I’m supposed to go over to Patrick’s in an hour. I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The super was concerned when I gave her the money yesterday, she worried I’d gotten into something illegal. This probably is because he paid me but it’s a real fine time for her to start worrying about me now. I applied for another job today at the warehouse on the docks, they are always looking for manual labourers apparently. I got the job pretty easily. 

I read up on sub-dom stuff a bit and I’m supposed to dress to please him but I don’t know what he likes. I look in the mirror. There’s not much I can do with my hair but style it up the way I always do or leave it alone and chance it going frizzy if I get the least bit wet or sweaty. Nope, I’ll style it thanks. I look at my cloths. I’ve got black skinny jeans or...black skinny jeans. I shake my head and throw on a clean pair. I look at my shirts, appealing…I think. I need something appealing. I grab a tshirt with a band logo on the front that I’ve cut the sleeves off of. It shows off my arms...will that help me at all? Probably not but it’s my best option. I look at the clock. I’m ten minutes late now. Shit. 

I run out the door and knock on his. He opens it quickly, thank god, but the look on his face is mildly terrifying until he actually looks at me. “You’re late.” 

“I’m sorry, sir.” I say, almost choking on the word ‘sir’. It was the title listed as one of the most commonly used for a dom, after ‘master’ or ‘daddy’ and I’m not going there unless he demands me to, so I’m going with it and hoping it helps my case. He cracks a smile and moves to let me in. 

“So you aren’t totally oblivious to how this works then.” he chuckles lightly. 

“Google, I didn’t read much before I freaked out and closed the tab.” I try not to make eye contact. “But I managed to figure out one or two things.” 

“Ok, well first we have to set out the rules.” he says looking at me with uncertainty. “You don’t speak unless told to or if you have to use your safeword.” he says. Well shit, I’m gonna be really bad at this. I nod, making my best effort to start trying to follow the rules immediately. I owe him that much at least. “Do you have a safeword picked out, Peter?” he asks. I grimace at my name, I’ve still never told him I hate that. 

“No, sir.” I say, he’s directly asked me something, that must mean I’m allowed to answer. “Patrick, can I ask you something?” I ask him, watching his face to see if it’s allowed. He smiles and nods. “I really hate when people call me Peter, it’s just Pete, is that ok?” I ask. 

“Of course,” he smiles easily. “Now pick a safeword that we can remember but you won’t say accidentally. I don’t think we’ll need it today but we need to know what it is from the start.” 

I think for a minute. “Pumpkin.” I say, almost without really considering it. It’s an easy word, even if it comes out mildly mispronounced you know what’s being said. 

“Alright, pumpkin, that works. Second rule, you don’t cum until I do unless I say otherwise and you have to ask for it unless I already tell you to.” He gives me a stern look to go with this rule, that must be the important one. Shit, ok, I don’t know how good I’ll be at that. “Last real rule is we don’t leave marks where they can be easily seen, people ask questions and get upset and start crap. Neither of us needs that. Breaking rules will result in some form of punishment. You got all that, Pete?” he asks. A direct question. 

“Yes, sir, I understand.” I respond. 

“Good, today we’ll start off easy, nothing really demanding since it’s the first time. I’m already prepped so you don’t have to worry about that, I wasn’t sure you’d know how and I don’t want to spend a lot of our first night on that.” he says. I nod, that was one of the things I did look up and found the be one of the least disturbing things. “And Pete, I will warn you now I will call you names, I will curse, and I will probably say really dirty shit. Don’t let any of it really get to you, ok?” he says and I nod. “Now undress.” he commands, his voice going a little deeper and taking on an unfamiliar and all together different tone. 

I comply easily, it’s not a difficult demand. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside. He examines me while I undo my jeans and try not to stumble out of them. His eyes burning trails over my skin. I kick off my boxers and stand there, awaiting another order.

“God, you’re prettier than I thought you were.” he praises and I feel an inexplicable sense of pride. Why am I happy he approves of my appearance? I’m not into this, I’m doing it for the money. The feeling doesn’t fade or go away though. “On your knees.” he says. Shit, I should have known. I fall to my knees without argument though I really don’t want to know what the punishment will be. He stands in front of me and undoes his belt and jeans. At this point I’ve gathered what I’m supposed to do so I reach up to take over, internally groaning, and he actually seems pleased with this. That stupid feeling of pride swells up in my chest again and I try to push it down. 

I pull his jeans and boxers down, helping him step out of them, revealing the thick that is already semi-hard. The feeling swells again and I internally curse myself. What is wrong with me? This time I hesitate. He doesn’t seem angry about it or irritated. He reaches down and grabs a handful of my hair though and I try not to wince. 

“Come on slut, open up.” he says and even though he warned me the word stings a little. He’s not wrong but still. I let my jaw hang slack though, and open my mouth. He pushes his cock past my lips and I add some pressure. He thrusts very gently until I take over, running my tongue up the underside and reaching up with my hands. He doesn’t take his hand out of my hair but loosens the grip a bit. 

It’s not as bad as I thought it would be and he tries to conceal a little whine but I catch it. I try to remember things that girls have done to me that I liked, maybe something will work for him, the sooner he gets off, the better off I’ll be. I run my tongue over the slit and he squirms a bit. I moan lightly his dick still in my mouth, this serves in both giving the impression I like him squirming and giving a vibration to help him along. I taste something salty and try not to grimace. He pulls me off his cock with a pop and I wipe the little bit of pre-cum and saliva that ends up on my chin away with my hand.

“Alright, now stand up.” He commands, this time I don’t know what’s going to happen so I make the mistake of hesitating. He grabs my hair again. “Did you hear me, bitch? I said stand up.” he seems impatient now so I stand up on shaky legs, my knees aching. I ignore that ache and instead focus on the one that’s replaced the feeling of pride I had earlier. I like this feeling less than the pride. I feel like I’ve let him down, like I’ve failed him somehow. I really don’t like that feeling even though realistically I shouldn’t care. 

“I’m sorry sir.” I say, I know I’m speaking out of turn but I hope the fact that it’s an apology will counter that. He nods. 

“Do you know what I want you to do, my pretty little whore?” he asks me and I can take a wild guess. He’s calling me pretty again so I must have regained my favour with him. Though now the praise is mixed with the insults. Maybe it’s not meant to be an insult when used like that. He likes that I’m his whore, so that must mean it’s a good thing. My mind gets away from me now, I don’t really know what happens. All I do know is I’d rather have that stupid feeling of pride back than the feeling that I’ve disappointed him. 

“You want me to fuck you, sir?” I ask, tilting my head to the side a little, trying to look like maybe I’m unsure. Telling him I want instructions. 

“Yes I do.” he steps towards me, pressing his shorter frame against mine. He’s soft and kinda chubby and still wearing his tshirt. This shirt suddenly offends me. I don’t like it. I can’t think of how to ask and I don’t want to speak out of turn so I simply tug at the hem of the shirt and give a little whine. “Is that bugging you, pretty boy?” he asks and I nod. “I don’t really like taking my shirt off in front of others but you’ve been pretty good today for your first time. It really bugs you that much?” I nod again. “Ok, you can take it off me then.” he says and I carefully comply. I feel happier when it’s gone. His pale white skin exposed. He looks uncomfortable but something about my face makes him relax. 

“Thank you, sir.” I say quietly and he smiles. He then does something that surprises me and takes my dick in his hand, wrapping his delicate and calloused around my length. He strokes me and it’s then that I realize I’ve actually been getting hard from all of this. 

“You’ve been a good boy, and you’re so hard for me.” he says and it sends chills down my spine. “You want to fuck me now, pretty boy?” I nod before I can register my response. “Good, because I want you in me.” he lets go of my dick. “I want you to pick me up in those strong arms of yours and fuck me hard.” he says barely above a whisper. 

I pull him towards me and slide my hands down his sides, loving the feeling of his soft, smooth skin under my hands. I grab the bottoms of his thighs and hoist him up so his legs are wrapped around my hips. I decide to pin him against the wall. This surprises him but he seems pleased with it. He grabs a handful of my hair again and grabs at my back with his other hand. I kiss at his neck, making sure not to leave any marks. I run my hand down his ass, and feel that he wasn’t kidding when he said he was ready. I push up into him and he moans, it’s a sound I find that I actually do like and it feeds that feeling of pride. His grip on me tightens as I start a steady rhythm, he wanted hard and rough I realize. I pick up my pace a bit, fucking into him and finding that I love the friction I’m getting. 

Then I catch myself, he has to cum first, that’s the rule. I focus solely on getting him off but it’s hard to do. He starts murmuring profanities and telling me I’m a good boy, that I’m his pretty boy, that it feels so good. Then I hit something in him and he almost screams. For a second I worry I’ve hurt him but that didn’t sound like a scream of pain. I slow down a bit though so I can check and make sure. He glares at me and I think better of slowing down. I hit it again and he only moans this time, very loudly. 

“Fuck, so good...such...pretty...good little slut…” he manages as I continue to fuck into him. He makes a strangled little noise before cumming between us. Thank god, because I’m not gonna last much longer. What I didn’t count on though was him tightening around me as his orgasm hits him. It takes everything I’ve got not to cum right then and there. I wait till he’s done and I can’t take it anymore before I speak up. 

“Sir, please…” I pant, not stopping, I tried to slow down but he didn’t want me to. 

“What you need? You want to cum?” he asks, barely managing through the over stimulation. “Cum for me little slut, you’ve earned it. Cum inside me.” he whispers with his voice straining around the words. That’s all it take. I come hard, pushing up into him as I do and groaning so loud it’s almost a scream. I drop to my knees, taking him with me and we just sit there for a minute. 

He seems to recover quickly and he hugs me, stroking my hair and cuddling me. I vaguely know what he’s doing but I thought this was something done to bottoms. Maybe it’s something done to subs. I don’t really know. He whispers praise to me and kisses my temple. “You did so good. I’m so sorry for the nasty things I said to you, I know I was a little mean when you hesitated, that wasn’t fair to you. You’re new to this.” he whispers. I nuzzle into his neck almost reflexively and I don’t know where the instinct comes from. He lifts my head up, cupping my jaw in his hands. “Are you ok, Pete?” he asks intently. I nod as best as I can, feeling kind of tired in all honesty. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” he says, taking hold of under my arms and heaving me to my feet. He sits me down on his bed and wanders away. He comes back with a cloth and cleans me up. The feeling of pride hasn’t left my chest yet and I’m confused about it. I look up at him and he smiles. He wanders off to the bathroom again and when he comes back he crawls onto the bed and pull me back, further onto the bed, evidently not intending to let me leave. He pull a really fuzzy blanket over us and cuddles up close to me. The blanket smells like strawberries and he’s soft and warm. I could be ok with this I guess, I think to myself as I let him cuddle me and get comfy. He starts singing quietly. He’s got a really pretty voice. It doesn’t take long for the tired feeling to overcome me.


End file.
